


Hexing Fate in the Balls

by autumn_veela



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-03
Updated: 2009-07-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 10:06:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/673204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumn_veela/pseuds/autumn_veela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neville Longbottom hexed fate in the balls and fate hexed him right back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hexing Fate in the Balls

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for [](http://ceirdwenfc.livejournal.com/profile)[**ceirdwenfc**](http://ceirdwenfc.livejournal.com/) for the [](http://rarepair-shorts.livejournal.com/profile)[**rarepair_shorts**](http://rarepair-shorts.livejournal.com/) [](http://community.livejournal.com/rarepair_shorts/204954.html)**Summer Wishlist Event** , She wanted Seamus/Hannah through Neville's eyes with the prompt of _fate_. At first this was going to be a 400-word angsty drabble, then the boys started fighting and I eventually had to enlist Hannah's help to stop them. It's now an odd mixture of angst, humour and romance.

To be down-trodden is Neville Longbottom’s fate in life. He decides this when he’s curled up in a tiny cupboard, his heart beating like a herd of stampeding hippogriffs and his sweaty palm clenching dangerously around his wand. But his Gran has taught him well, and her confidently acidic words ring clear in his ears: _Fate is not written in the stars, Neville. We make our own fate, and you’ll discover this soon enough. You can’t spend your whole life bowing down before others, ignoring the legacy of your father and putting me to shame! I look desperately forward to the day when you stop making excuses for yourself and start being a man._ An excited shiver runs through Neville as he realises that this is the turning point. He can continue to let the world walk all over him or he can hex fate in the balls and claim what’s rightfully his.

He moves slowly at first, impressed with his ability to keep quiet. It’s not a broom cupboard like those only the lucky people manage to get themselves trapped in. No, it’s a cramped Herbology storage cupboard, no more than three feet high and far too shallow for his liking. Of course, it seemed the most obvious place to hide when the hushed voices drifted into Greenhouse 1, interrupting his search for Trevor, the Stupidest Toad Who Ever Lived. The years of continuous humiliation had caught up with him, and he just couldn’t handle another round of teasing, even the good-natured variety. Hiding had seemed the better option.

The door creaks as Neville pushes it open, wand at the ready. Seamus is whispering something into Hannah’s ear, then his lips are pressing against hers and both are too maddeningly busy to notice him at first. It’s not until he’s fallen gracelessly to the floor, legs numb with pins and needles, that the couple turn, Hannah’s face amused and Seamus’ enraged.

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ”

Seamus casts the spell just a moment before Neville, and Neville’s wand is knocked from his hand as his left calf muscle tightens with cramp. He grips his leg and moans, wondering what he did to anger the Gods in a past life. Seamus, of all people! _Seamus!_ They are roommates and tentative friends and he _knows_ that Neville has fancied Hannah for years. And now the bastard’s stolen her right out from under him and embarrassed him in the process.

Seamus’ face is red with anger and Neville wonders why. _He_ should be the angry one. Seamus has the girl and the looks and the moves and Neville is just a pointless, crippled failure. Neville avoids Hannah’s face as best he can, but her voice is demanding.

“What’s going on? Why on _earth_ are you hexing each other, Seamus? And Nev, _what_ in Merlin’s name were you doing in the cupboard?”

Seamus visibly takes a deep breath and, as the cramp eases, Neville wonders if he can reach his wand with his foot. Hannah’s hand appears on Seamus’ shoulder and Neville clenches his teeth. If only he could perform a wandless _Accio_ like everyone else his age.  

“You’d better leave, love. Neville and I will deal with this between us.” Seamus’ voice has a perilous edge to it.

“No!” Hannah jumps between them and Neville uses the opportunity to crawl for his wand. “Neville, I know Seamus can be an arrogant prat when he wants-” Seamus huffs indignantly and Neville can’t help but smile, “-but you’re usually sensible. _Please_ tell me what is going on.”

Neville reaches his wand and clutches it gratefully. Seamus is renowned for his ‘lovely Irish singing’, and the girls all find it just dandy. But Neville’s adamant that Seamus will be singing nothing but soprano once he’s done with him. “Sorry, Han. But Seamus is right, you should leave.”

A cry of frustration slices the air and a flash of light hits Neville on the shoulder. Ropes wrap tightly around him, and he’s about to let loose at Seamus when he realises that Seamus is also tied up. Hannah stands between them, her chest heaving and her jaw set. Neville has never seen her so agitated. “Right! I care about you both, but neither of you are entirely indispensable.” Seamus struggles wildly and a string of Gaelic swearwords leaves his mouth. Neville hopes Seamus has already taught Hannah what they mean, because Hannah will never touch Seamus again if she knows what he just said about her mother. But Hannah ignores him and Neville concedes a point to the Irishman. “Neville? Why were you in the cupboard?”

She looks so wild that Neville decides that partial honesty is the best policy. “I was looking for Trevor.”

“Bullshit! He was spying on us!”

Hannah whirls around to Seamus, wand at the ready. “Shut it!” she yells, and Seamus cowers. One point to Neville.

“If you were looking for Trevor, Nev, then why did you try to disarm Seamus?”

Neville glowers in Seamus’ direction as he tries to think of an excuse. The truth is far too humiliating. “It’s just… dorm stuff. Something that happened that you don’t need to worry about.”

Hannah rolls her eyes and Neville can tell she’s not fooled, but she turns to Seamus anyway. “Seamus? Why did you try to disarm Neville?”

“’Cause he’s a jealous bugger who can’t stand the fact that you’re with me instead of him.”

Hannah’s gasp is drowned out by the sound of Neville’s own rage bubbling in his ears. His entire being wants to grab Seamus by the bollocks and twist viciously. The thought occurs to Neville for no more than a second before Seamus is writhing in his bonds, his mouth open in what looks like phenomenal pain. Although Seamus is a smarmy git, Neville doesn’t actually want to see him in _that_ much pain and he’s glad when Seamus suddenly goes limp. Seamus gulps air for a moment, then looks straight at Neville with fire in his eyes. Before Neville can process the terrifying intensity of the look, a bolt of pain shoots through his groin and he wants to scream but nothing comes out. Neville’s last thought before the world goes black is that Parvati has been right all along – there is such thing as karma and, for the first time in his life, Neville Longbottom is well and truly on the receiving end.

~    ~    ~

The hospital wing is quiet until Seamus starts making a racket, and Neville is surprised that Madame Pomfrey has put them within sight of each other. Luckily Hannah’s there, though, and she calms him down before Madame Pomfrey wearily feeds him a sleeping draught.

Neville’s balls feel fine now, and he’s eternally grateful that he was still out when Madame Pomfrey administered her treatment. Once he awoke she came bustling around the bed, checking his vital signs and muttering something about the dangers of accidental wandless magic combined with rampant hormones.

Once Seamus is settled, Hannah stalks over to Neville with a scowl on her face. Neville feels like he’s about to explode with embarrassment, and he desperately wishes that Madame Pomfrey had left more of the calming draught for him. Hannah takes a seat beside the bed and Neville waits to be blasted. Instead, though, the scowl slips from Hannah’s pretty face and she smiles coyly. “Is it true, what Seamus said?”

Neville looks away, biting his lip and hoping to Merlin that she doesn’t actually expect him to answer. Hannah seems to take this as a justified ‘yes’.

“I’m flattered, Nev. I… I had no idea.”

Neville finds himself nodding. He knows she had no idea. He had kept it that way because he was too much of a coward, and now someone else had beaten him to it. Was that fate? Or was it his own failing, like his Gran believed? His first attempt at conquering fate had hardly been successful.

“You’re a great friend, Nev. But I’m with Seamus, and although he can be a hot-headed prat I do actually like him.”

Neville is expecting it, but his last thread of hope had still clung on until the final moment. He decides now that he has nothing to lose. “I don’t get it, Hannah. He’s arrogant and self-centred and smarmy, all the things you’re not. You’re sweet and caring and lovely… usually.” He had seen a different side to Hannah today, after all.

Hannah cocks her head and Neville can’t help but stare into her light green eyes. She takes a deep breath. “He is all those things, sometimes. But he’s also strong and protective and he makes me laugh, plus he has this incredibly romantic side that he doesn’t let other people see. I don’t want someone exactly like me, Neville. I want someone different. And it feels right with Seamus, it really does. It’s like… pieces of a jigsaw puzzle falling into place. Or two halves of the same soul coming together. With me and Seamus, it’s fate. We’re meant to be together.”

Hannah is rambling and they both know it, and they also both know that she’s been reading too many of the _Witch Weekly Amortentia Book Club_ series that her mother likes to collect. But Hannah’s love-fuelled words ring in Neville’s ears, drowning out the crisp Yorkshire tones of his grandmother. He’d tried hexing fate in the balls, and fate had just hexed him right back. Maybe he should stop worrying, should just relax and meet fate’s challenges with a steady hand and a level gaze.

Fate has won, for now. But Neville Longbottom is a Gryffindor, and he will most certainly return to fight another day.


End file.
